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"See what I told you?" said Lodston. "The spellwords
are gone. All I know is that whatever he saw last night
scared him."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because he didn't go right to sleep. He made a sign
with some ashes on the inside of the door and then bolted it
like he thought somebody was going to try to break in. In
the morning, he gave me that list and told me to get the
stuff in a hurry. He handed me his staff and said I needed to
take it with me; that's when he whispered the secret word in
my ear to make it work."
"What secret word?" demanded Martin, his eyes riveted
to the enchanted weapon.
"None of your business," replied the dwarf, "and I can't
give you this staff. It's the elf's, not mine. Now give me
those goods, and let me get back to the cave before dark. I
don't know why he wanted all this stuff, but he told me to
hurry."
"You promised me . . ."
"I never promised you anything, Milo Martin!"
countered the hermit. "But if you want me to tell Dala-mar
that you wouldn't loan him the things on that list . . ."
"All right, all right!" growled the cautious merchant.
Martin was angry with himself for letting Nugold Lodston
trick him into another extension of his credit, but he was
also hoping to find a way to acquire much more than just
the staff
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